Everyone has a hobby
by Fantony
Summary: Harry Potter loves playing Quidditch. No big news here. Neville Longbottom secretly sings lullabies to his mandrake. But did you know Draco Malfoy was pretty skilled at watercolour painting? HPDM Slash. One-shot. Fluff alert.


_**Note: **__Just a little fluffy drarry one-shot! HPDM Slash, obviously.__Fluff alert. _

_**Please keep in mind that I'm French, hence the English mistakes!**__** ;) **_

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><p><strong>EVERYONE HAS A HOBBY<strong>

Everyone has a hobby.

Harry Potter loves to play Quidditch. No big news here. If I wanted to surprise you, I could have told you he does his points exercises in a tutu every Saturday afternoon, but then that would be lying.

Hermione Granger can spend whole days –even very sunny days- locked in the library, doing her homework or just quenching her thirst for knowledge.

Ronald Weasley can spend whole days –even very sunny days- locked in the library, staring at said Hermione Granger and wondering how on earth she can find all those books full of complicated words interesting. (Truth is that he finds her really cute when she rolls her eyes at him in exasperation whenever he asks her whether she's almost done or not)

Albus Dumbledore has a great fondness for sweets and always keeps some in his robe's hidden pockets.

Neville Longbottom secretly sings lullabies to his mandrake (please don't tell him I told you about that, he gets easily upset, you know?)

Rubeus Hagrid has a thing for giant spiders and generally speaking for any dangerous magical creature no one would like to befriend with.

Former house-elf Dobby has developed a penchant for collecting socks (while on the subject, if you happen to own polka dotted red and yellow socks you don't want to wear anymore, get in touch with him, he'll be overjoyed).

Severus Snape can sometimes be found on the fifth floor, playing the piano in the music classroom and those long fingers of his work wonders (I'm talking about piano skills, you perv'!)

Luna Lovegood believes creatures such as crumple-horned snorkacks or blibbering hundingers exist while not many others do.

Pansy Parkinson offers Colin Creevey a few galleons each time he gives her a picture of Draco Malfoy he took without his knowing. She's already got ninety-three different ones that she keeps in her secret diary.

And Draco Malfoy… Well, Draco Malfoy is pretty skilled at painting. Especially watercolour.

You had no idea? No wonder, he wouldn't tell anyone and no one has ever asked him about his hobbies (I'm not sure Crabbe and Goyle even know what it means), except Pansy Parkinson to whom he replied his favourite past-time was sex. Unfortunately for him, she didn't find him coarse as he had expected and he actually was the one who almost blushed when she told him how much she would love to ride his _broomstick_. For Merlin's sake, that girl really has a dirty mind!

Anyway, this is Sunday morning and everyone's still asleep when Draco silently makes his way out of the Slytherin boys' dormitory. He takes a deep breath as he steps out of Hogwarts and enjoys the fresh air while walking toward the Black Lake. The September rising sun plays beautifully on the lake, colouring its surface in gold and pale pink. _This is perfect_, Draco thinks as he sits down, not paying attention to the grass wet with dew. He opens his watercolour box, dips his brush in Indigo and, pursing his lips in concentration, begins making short brush strokes. Soon enough, the white canvas turns into a wonderful painting.

But what Draco ignores is that Quidditch is not Potter's only hobby. Indeed, Harry also enjoys early morning walks. Now and then, he would wake up at dawn and take a walk around the castle. He enjoys the silence and as much as he loves his friends, he must admit that sometimes, it feels good being alone. Alone? Not exactly this morning...

"Malfoy? What are you doing here?"

The unexpected voice makes Draco startle and the round paintbrush in his right hand draws a jagged streak of Indian Red across his half-finished canvas. Jaw clenched in anger, Draco turns to glare up at the stupid git who has just ruined his painting and his precious quiet solitude.

"Potter!" he yells angrily. "I can ask you the same question!"

Harry doesn't reply. He just seems unable to tear his eyes from the canvas.

"Oh, God! Malfoy... I never knew... you were... It is... Wow!"

"Merlin, Potter! Do you ever manage to form a decent sentence? You know, subject, verb, object? And it _was_ 'wow', now it's just ruined thanks to you!" the blonde groans.

"I'm sorry... Want me to fix it?" Harry offers, taking his wand out of the back pocket of his jeans.

"Certainly not, Potter! You're so poor at magic that you'd be able to turn it into a rat instead!"

"Whatever!" Harry shrugs and looks back at the painting. "You're really talented, Malfoy. I never thought a guy like you could, you know..."

"A guy like me?" Draco asks, frowning. "Meaning?"

"Oh, but there are others!" Harry exclaims, ignoring the question and grabbing Draco's watercolour pad.

"Give it back to me!" Draco shrieks, getting on his feet and trying to take the pad back from Harry to no avail.

"Why? Getting all shy, Malfoy? Am I going to find a naked Parkinson or something?" Harry teases but he soon falls to silence as he discovers the different paintings.

Draco doesn't say a word. He looks like he's just been pretified , for this is one of the – drop that!- this is the most embarrassing moment of his existence. There is no Pansy Parkinson in that painting pad. Just Harry. Harry in his Quidditch robe. Harry in Potions class. Harry smiling. Harry looking thoughtful. Harry, Harry, and Harry all over again...

"Draco... I don't know what to say... This is just... beautiful..." Harry mumbles after a while.

"Yeah, well, let me tell you you look much better in painting than in person," Draco grumbles, avoiding Harry's eyes.

"But how come I've never seen you doing these?"

"Well, you're always so busy trying to seek attention or playing the hero that you would never notice me. Anyway, I don't need you to be in front of me to paint you. I memorize the poses, the shades, the expressions on your face, the way your eyes shine when you're happy, or the way you frown when you're upset... and then I wait to be alone to paint the picture that's stuck in my mind..."

Draco freezes as those words escape his mouth. It dawns on him that he has just admitted to his long time enemy that he spends so much time watching him that he knows his features by heart; he has just admitted that he is...

"Hey, don't jump to stupid conclusions Potter! That doesn't mean anything! It's just I need practising and –"

Harry cups Draco's face in his hands and forces him to look at him.

"Draco..." Harry whispers and it is the sweetest melody the Slytherin has ever heard.

This time, Draco has no choice but to get lost in those deep emerald green eyes, the same emerald green he has used to paint the grass earlier. His breath becomes heavy and he feels like his heart is going to explode. He opens his mouth in a last attempt to say something but Harry captures his lips in a long and gentle kiss that tastes of morning dew and sends shivers of pleasure down Draco's spine.

Maybe kissing Harry Potter is going to be another hobby of Draco Malfoy...

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><p><em><strong>Alright, that was all fluffy and maybe a bit OOC but you were warned! :) <strong>_

_**Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think! :) **_

**Published on February.13 2012**


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